


Success

by imanadultiguess



Series: Greg and Sally [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: D/s understones, F/M, Oneshot, Some small Sherlock hate, bdsm undertones, just a day in the life of a D/s ship, no actual play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-05
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 11:37:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6468733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imanadultiguess/pseuds/imanadultiguess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sally is angry at Greg for giving up the Waters family arrest to "rescue" Sherlock.</p><p>Basically, some D/s-laced conversation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Success

**Author's Note:**

> I just want good things for Sally. I love her.

He sits at her feet while she reads. He looks up every now and then, watching the furrow in her brow smooth out as her anger fades.

"We're going to talk about this at 8:00 p.m.," she told him. Half an hour for her to calm down, and half an hour for him to contemplate his mistake. And it was definitely a mistake. Bastard Holmes brothers and their flair for the dramatic. His heart had skipped a beat when he saw the texts. 

_Help._

_BAKER ST._

_NOW._

Sally had been angry enough when he left her to make the arrest; she'd been positively livid when she found out he'd call for "maximum back up" for Sherlock Holmes' best man speech. They'd driven to her flat in silence, and while Greg was distressed at having upset his Domme, he was glad she'd waited for him at the office. He was glad he could go back to hers, not to his painfully Sally-less flat. 

He's on his knees, but she's placed a large, fluffy pillow between him and the hardwood floor. The gesture makes his heart ache even more. He wants to rest his head on her thigh, wants to nuzzle against her, wants to apologize, wants to be forgiven. 

He sighs heavily, giving her puppy dog eyes. (Sally Donovan's weakness: Greg Lestrade's bright puppy dog eyes. He's used this to his advantage on more than one occassion. Mostly when the situation involves candies.) She rolls her eyes then glances down at him. "Hush," she says. 

No luck, then. 

This is better, though. The fights with his now ex-wife had been incredibly taxing. She'd take apart his arguments, demand more explanations, bombard him with half-truths and ultimatums. "Where were you? Why didn't you call? You got shot? Why did you go after them? You chose the arrest over our night out, meaning you care more about your job than you do our marriage. You're more concerned about that drug addict than me! I need a husband, not a cop. It's your choice, you're home before dinner or I'm finished." 

A copper's wife doesn't have it easy, he knows that. It wasn't fair to her, he can see that now. She needed something he couldn't provide. It hadn't been that his job was more important than her--it's that there were more emergencies in his line of work than she was prepared to deal with. The worrying had been as exhausting for her as the arguing had been for him. 

But his relationship with Sally is soothing. When he is late, she doesn't guilt him--nor does she worry. Her trust in his competency makes him feel proud, like he really is a proper DCI. He is punished for his stupidity when necessary, but mostly she understands and respects his decisions. It is easy to submit to Sally. She doesn't require the explanations, the constant chatter, the nagging. She laid out her expectations at the beginning of their relationship and he does his best to meet them. There is comfort in her rules, in her presence. There is no double-speak; he doesn't have to constantly decode what she was telling him. He doesn't have to review his words before he says them. 

He would much rather be on his knees, close to his Domme's side than half way across the flat, loud word and sharp tones furthering them apart. 

Greg shuts his eyes, taking in the sensation of the cushion underneath his knees, now warm but flattening into the floor beneath his weight. A small ache is starting in his knees. He flexes his toes to encourage blood flow. He rolls his head back and forth, then straightens his spine. Deep breath in, deep breath out. 

He is warm and safe. He can be quiet. Sally will tell him when it's time to talk. 

She will handle this. He doesn't have to. 

An alarm goes off on her mobile. She closes her book and slides her finger across the screen, and then there's silence. 

He can feel her eyes on him. Her gaze makes him feel heavy again. He avoids looking up at her. 

Her fingers comb through his trim gray hair, and his nerves light up. He wants to melt against her touch. "C'mere, luv," she says. Sally never has a particularly warm tone, but there's undercurrents of something welcoming in her words. 

Greg complies, scooting closer as she guides his head to rest on her knee. She continues running her fingers across his scalp, down to the close-cropped hairs of his neck. She massages a knot she finds just above his spine until his shoulder tingles from the increased blood flow. He shivers. Everything about this feels right. He's home. 

"Why do you think I'm upset?" she asks. 

He starts to raise up, instinct telling him to be on the offense, but Sally presses down, keeping him still. "No," she says, as if reading his mind, "I want to make sure we're on the same page. Do you know why I'm upset?" 

He takes a deep breath. No decoding. No doublespeak. It's a simple question. There's nothing shadowy or accusatory propping up her words. 

"Because I went to Sherlock?" 

Her nails lightly scrape over his upper back, and the tension continues to melt away. He's okay. He's doing everything right at the moment. Just answer. 

"Thank you," she answers, a small acknowledgement of his compliance. She clears her throat. "No, I'm not upset that you left for the Freak. I'm upset because you deserved to make that arrest. Do you understand that?" 

Greg hesitates. "A little bit? Maybe? I don't know." 

She lifts his head, her calloused hands cupping his face. "Look at me, Lestrade." His eyes meet hers and her gaze is so intense, it almost hurts. It's difficult to maintain eye contact with Sally, even in the softer moments of their relationship. "You worked very hard to catch the Waters family--" 

"But so did you," he interjects. 

"Hush," she orders, her voice still quiet. "You worked very hard to catch the Waters family. And yes, I worked hard too, but I was also working on Dimmock's case, wasn't I? And I made that arrest. I got the recognition that I deserved, didn't I, luv?" 

Greg processes this before nodding. Sally would likely rank up by the end of the year because of her success. Detective Inspector Donovan. He smiles, proud of his Domme. She was spectacularly talented; there was no doubt she'd make Commander before the end of her career. He turns his head to kiss her palm. 

"But you left before you made a career-making arrest, do you understand?" 

"I guess?" 

"Greg," she says pointedly, "I want good things for you. I want you to succeed in your own right. You're a smart man, and you're a _good_ man, and you deserve accolades, yeah?" 

He blushes beneath her praise. He hadn't thought of that. He hadn't considered that Sally would want success for him. He shivers again, his heart aching, though he's not sure why. 

"I'm okay," he tells her. 

"I want you to respect yourself, sweetheart." She leans down to kiss his forehead. "And part of that is accepting that you deserve good things, yeah? That if you work hard for something, it's okay to accept the praise that goes with it. You deserved to make that arrest. You deserved to book the Waters family. All of them. And it bothers me that you just let it go." 

Greg's voice is soft when he answers. "Sherlock said he needed me." 

Sally sighs. "How many times has he not been there when you needed him?" 

Greg opens his mouth to answers. "He's helped me solve a lot of cases, though." 

Sally closes her eyes. "Lestrade, you're not listening to me." 

"I am!" he snaps back. 

"Okay, hush, calm down." She grips the back of his neck until she feels him relax. "Shields down, yeah?" 

"Yes, miss." 

"What am I saying to you?" 

He runs their conversation through his head again. "To let myself succeed?" 

Sally's soft smile makes his chest swell with pride. "Yes. Good boy." She kisses him, and it's simultaneously gentle and dominating. His heart skips a beat. 

"I want good things for my boy," she repeats. "I want everyone to know just how good my boy is." 

He hums softly in agreement, resting his head to her chest. "Thank you, miss." 

"Next time you call for back-up, it better not have anything to do with Sherlock Fuckin' Holmes," she growls. 

"Yes ma'am."

**Author's Note:**

> Leave comments for +1 karma


End file.
